Hmm... I'm not sure how to say this - so I'll quote a conversation. "David," that's my real name, "what the hell are you doing?" My drummer asked, as I just mostly randomly stuck my hand out the window and took a picture. "Taking pictures." Was my reply. I'm pretty sure that's fucking obvious, you know? "Of what?" He asked. "Maine." I replied. "I don't have to point the camera. You don't even have to slow down. Everywhere I look, it's beautiful." That's pretty close to drinking-verbatim. He called me nuts and I think that Mainers, at least those who haven't traveled, don't really appreciate it quite the same way I do. I wrote the above, 'cause it's really like that. Those are just pictures going down the road. Today is not a particularly great day. It's just an ordinary day. One of the reasons I love Maine is that, quite simply, there's beauty - everywhere I look. I've done significant traveling. I could have picked anywhere to retire to. I chose Maine and, strangely enough, they've come to *mostly* accept me. (I can write about Maine - for hours. I can, and might, talk your ear off. Alcohol might be a factor.)